


We might be dead tomorrow

by Wexuji



Series: Distant Echoes [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Graybin - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Porn with Feelings, Smut, There is too little Graybin content on this site, Time to yeet myself out of the window, i hate myself for writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 07:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16363163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wexuji/pseuds/Wexuji
Summary: It was always Gray who initiated, after won battles where they barely escaped with their lives. His kisses were hungry and rough, with his lips being chapped, sometimes even tasting of blood. Tobin doesn’t mind though. He understands. There was something in the way Gray pressed himself against his body that words couldn’t convey. Tobin feels the same after all.Maybe it’s time to face what neither of them wants to admit.





	We might be dead tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how writing smut works I'm crying  
> Just gonna leave this here :^) 
> 
> Set somewhere in Act 4 after Alm's group invades Rigel

All of their encounters were like this.

Hushed, clandestine, in the death of the night.

Tobin couldn’t even remember how everything started. It was under the guise of letting off steam – heck, it wasn’t unusual if they helped each other to jack off (which is at least what Gray insisted on) – and now they couldn’t get back. It was addicting. Gray was addicting.

It was always Gray who initiated, after won battles where they barely escaped with their lives. His kisses were hungry and rough, with his lips being chapped, sometimes even tasting of blood. Tobin doesn’t mind though. He understands. There was something in the way Gray pressed himself against his body that words couldn’t convey. Tobin feels the same after all.

Maybe it’s time to face what neither of them wants to admit.

Every fight could be the last one for them, every time they saw each other’s faces, every time they talked, the small moments where they still had the energy and motivation to fool around, to be happy and _laugh_ with each other – all of it could be over in a heartbeat.

Gray fights recklessly and Tobin has nightmares about everything that could happen to him.

His train of thought stops, when Gray slams him into the mattress. The impact knocks the air out of Tobin’s lungs. He lets out a gasp and Gray takes the chance to force his tongue down his throat without giving him a second to breathe. One of Gray’s hands is buried in his hair and he slides his other hand under Tobin’s shirt. His fingers are cold which makes him shudder.

“G-Gray –“, Tobin whines when Gray finally separates himself from him, only to be silenced again by another desperate kiss. Tobin doesn’t mind though. He likes the way they are right now, rough, needy, and so hurried that it doesn’t allow his thoughts to linger. He presses his hand against the back of Gray’s head and deepens the kiss. Their tongues intertwine.

The sensations are flooding him. Gray’s hand is still under his shirt, mapping out his abdomen and tracing all the scars he had there, some of which Gray even helped to treat and then tracing upwards to his chest –

It’s hot and leaves a burning trail on Tobin’s skin, a stark contrast to the cold he feels on the exposed part of his torso. Rigel is far in the north and its nights are way colder than warm nights back in Ram Tobin was used to. When Gray’s hand accidently brushes his nipple, an involuntary moan escapes Tobin’s mouth and he quickly bites down onto his lip. They have to keep quiet if they don’t want to get caught.

He can see Gray smirk. He changes his position to keep Tobin’s arms pinned to the mattress with one hand and brushes with his thumb over it again and Tobin has to bite down even harder to not make any sound. His dick twitches. He presses his legs together, but Gray roughly separates them with his own knee and grinds against it, which makes Tobin flush and exhale a shaky breath.

“Fuck, Gray!” he presses out and Gray strokes his cheek soothingly.

Tobin’s heart is thudding loudly in his chest as he feels Gray’s gaze raking over him and he catches something in his eyes, a cocktail of emotions that seem so tender and vulnerable that it doesn’t belong there, not while they’re like this –

It seems too real. And maybe that's the reason why they almost never talk during those moments.

(Tobin wants to embrace him, wants to hold him closer and kiss him. The relevation and the meaning behind this makes his stomach drop.)

The moment goes as fast as it came and the way Gray trails sloppy kisses down the column of his throat brings him back to reality. His eyes are locked together with Tobin's, a dark mesmerizing shade of brown and it makes his breath catch as Gray lowers his head even further and takes a slow, deliberate lick at his chest.

He squirms under that wet sensation and the hunger that shows in Gray's eyes. He adds pressure, slowly and carefully and Tobin can feel his thumb circling his other nipple. It is calloused from the tight grip he keeps on his sword on the battlefield, a sword that lately barely leaves his side.

Tobin arches into the touch. His hips buck forward and he doesn't care that he grinds against Gray and he doesn't care about the sounds that leave his mouth.

Actually, fuck the people that might overhear this. If anyone found out, it might even give them the push they needed to finally face each other.

They might be dead tomorrow.

And there are too many feelings involved, so many that Tobin doesn't want to pull away.

He's vaguely aware of the fact that Gray is still clothed and not _close enough_ so he breaks free of the grip Gray has on his arms and pulls him close by his collar. Time seems to slow down as they look at each other, eyes wide and something sparks between them.

It comes crushing over him like a wave.

God, Tobin never wants to lose him, never wants to be apart of that stupid idiot he calls his best friend.

He's in love. He's been in love with him for years and it took a goddamn war and daily near-death experiences to realize it.

Everything he feels and thinks afterwards is in a haze. At some point, both their shirts are flung into a random corner of the room and Gray shoves a hand into Tobin's pants. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters except Gray's hand on his dick, hard and slick with precum and Tobin doesn't mind the chilly air because he's feeling hot, so _hot -_

And then Gray replaces his hand with his own member but it's somehow still not enough. He wants to feel more of him, be even closer to him and he wraps his arms around Gray's torso, _clings_ to him, as if his life would depend on it.

Gray curses and he moves faster and Tobin muffles his moans by biting down onto Gray's neck. He's close, they both are. It feels like an out of body experience. Tobin is high on arousal, adrenaline, his lack of sleep and his anxiety.

_We might be dead tomorrow._

He tightens his grip and his nails dig into Gray's skin. He's almost crushing him and they're the closest they can physically get but Tobin wants more, something even more intimidate even if he can't think of anything that might satisfy that need.

It's maddening. Maybe he is going insane.

_Tobin..._

He doesn't know if he's imagining things, but it's the sound of Gray whispering his name that makes his heart miss a beat and tips him over the edge. Gray cums, a split of a second after Tobin and their seed mix between them, first hot but quickly cooling off.

Neither of them moves and neither of them speaks. Tobin lays there, listening to the sound of them breathing. Gray feels cozily warm on top of him.

Tobin wonders if they're ever going to talk about what just happened, about what has been going on for _months._ This isn't just "letting steam off" anymore. But they don’t. They just lie there and bask in each other’s presence until Gray finally gets up and awkwardly cleans up the evidence with a wet towel.

All Tobin could think about is the clammy feeling in his chest and the words that echo through his head.

_We might be dead tomorrow…_


End file.
